Aria (20 page)

There’s nothing to it, and you know it
. He pulled a glass out of a nearby cabinet and poured himself a double shot of whiskey. He finished the booze in less than a minute, then set the glass back down with such violence he worried he might shatter it. Not that he gave a shit—he was too rattled to care. He hadn’t intended to, but he found himself pouring another double. He drank this one a bit more slowly, and by the time he’d finished, he felt a nice buzz. He hadn’t forgotten or stopped worrying about Aiden, but at least he wasn’t wound quite as tightly as before.

What time would it be in London right about now? Four in the morning? He could never get the time difference straight. Was it five or six hours for the UK? It didn’t really matter. It was too late to call. Or too early.

He got ready for bed, knowing he’d probably not sleep. When he finally closed his eyes, he imagined Aiden, naked, fucking Cam in a four-poster bed along the lines of what he remembered seeing in Versailles. It didn’t matter that that was France and Cam was English— the image stuck. Red velvet sheets, carved mahogany, Aiden’s skin wet from exertion, his hair stuck to his face.

“Stop it,” he said aloud as he punched the pillow on the empty side of the bed. He glanced at the display on the clock radio—11:00 p.m. He forced himself to close his eyes again, but he opened them nearly as quickly. There was no way he was going to sleep. He got out of bed and threw on a pair of jeans and a cotton sweater, then combed his hair and slipped on a pair of shoes. He was out the door minutes later, headed for The Door, the gay bar a few blocks down the street from his apartment.

S
AM stumbled back into the apartment at three in the morning, alone.
Thank God for that
, he thought as he woke six hours later to the
bright late-morning sun. He’d never have forgiven himself if he’d done
something as stupid as ending up in bed with someone else. In spite of
his anger and hurt—in spite of the thrumming jealousy that he was
almost too embarrassed to admit even to himself—he couldn’t have
cheated on Aiden. Not after everything Aiden had been through. Still,
he couldn’t help but wonder if Aiden—
Call him. Stop acting like a stupid kid and call him!
He managed to down a cup of black coffee. His stomach
protested, but he ignored the nausea. He’d always thought of it as
penance of a sort, after he’d been idiotic enough to get drunk. Still no
message from Aiden. He checked his e-mail. Nothing. Two days, and
still nothing. He tapped the phone and took a deep breath. “Sam?” Aiden’s voice sounded hoarse.
“Hey.” Sam tried to sound casual. “Hadn’t heard from you in a
few days, and I thought I’d check in. You okay?”
“Oh, fuck. I said I’d call you, didn’t I?” Sam heard Aiden’s
muffled cough on the other end of the line. “Shit, Sammy. I’m sorry. I
had to take care of something, and I totally forgot.”
“No problem.” Boy, was
that
bullshit.
Aiden coughed again. “Sorry. I came down with some crud.
Ended up having to take the train to Rome—doctor said I couldn’t fly. I
got here about three hours ago. I should have called you. I’m sorry.” “You going to be able to sing?” Sam’s anger was now tempered
with guilt. Aiden sounded terrible.
“I’ll be fine. I’m taking today off. I can mark tomorrow, if I need
to.”
“Mark?”
“Sing half voice or down an octave. I do it anyhow when I’ve got
long rehearsals where we’re working with the director. I know the role
well enough that I can wait to work with the conductor.”
“Oh. That’s good.” Sam refilled his coffee cup. “Listen, Aiden,”
he began, knowing it wouldn’t help anything to keep what he knew to
himself, “there’s something I wanted to ask you.” Better to say
something now. There were already enough things they had to deal
with—his stupid jealousy was something they didn’t need. “Sure. Of course. Anything.”
“The other day, when I called… you seemed, I don’t know,
distracted.”
“Yeah.” Aiden’s sigh was audible through the speaker. “But it’s
nothing. Business stuff. A few canceled gigs.”
“Canceled gigs?”
There was a slight pause on the other end, and Aiden finally said,
“Yeah. Chuckie called right before you did. The folks in Scotland—the
gig I told you about, remember, the production of
Falstaff
?” “I remember. You were really excited about that.”
“They canceled. No reason. They said they weren’t interested.” “You’ve had that happen before, right? Not that it’s a good thing,
but—”
“I’ve had a bunch of cancellations. More than usual. Ever since
Paris.”
Paris. Sam’s hungover brain kicked into gear at last. “Ever since
what happened with Cam.”
“Exactly.”
“Is that what you were doing with him at the club?”
“I…
what
? How did you know?”
“There was an article about you two. Someone told me about it
and—”
“Oh, crap.” Aiden coughed again. “What did it say? No, don’t
answer that. I can just imagine. I went to meet him. I meant to tell him
to stay out of my life, to stay out of
our
lives. It was a mistake. Shit,
Sammy. Don’t tell me you thought….” When Sam didn’t immediately answer, Aiden added, “Sam. Oh, God. I’m so sorry. You have to know
I’d never do that to you. You have to believe me.”
“I know. And I do believe you.” Well, intellectually at least, it
was true. He hadn’t believed that Aiden would cheat on him. He hoped
he sounded convincing, because he wasn’t feeling as certain as he’d
like.
“Good.” Aiden sounded somewhat relieved. “Because I’d never
do that to you. I wouldn’t do it to anyone, after what I went through,
but I sure as hell wouldn’t do that to you.”
“Damn, Aiden. I miss you. More than you know. I wish I could
take care of you. Make you some chicken soup.”
“You don’t know how much I’d like that. But it won’t be that
long now. Only a few more weeks and I’ll be back for almost a month.
Maybe we can get away for a little bit. A B and B in Lancaster
County?”
“Deal. I’ll look into it.” Sam felt his eyes burn and rubbed the
bridge of his nose.
Stop feeling sorry for yourself.
Aiden sneezed, bringing Sam back to himself. “Sorry.” “You should get back in bed. I’ll call you later to check on you,
okay?”
“Sounds good. Love you, Sammy.”
“Love you too, Aiden.”
Sam set the phone down on the counter and closed his eyes.
When had this whole thing gotten so difficult?
The minute you decided to make this work.
He hoped he hadn’t
made a huge mistake. What if it didn’t work? What then? He wasn’t
sure his heart could handle another blow. And Aiden? He didn’t want
to let Aiden down. That was the last thing he wanted. And God, he
loved Aiden.
But maybe that’s not enough.
He pushed the thought from
his mind.

A
IDEN put the key in the lock and yawned. His flight from Frankfurt had been late arriving in New York, and he’d missed his connection. He’d gotten on another flight to Philly, but it had been delayed because of thunderstorms in Atlanta. He decided it was one of the great mysteries of travel, how in the twenty-first century a thunderstorm nearly a thousand miles away could delay a short flight between two of the largest cities in the US.

Would’ve been faster if I’d taken the train
, he thought as he dragged his bag through the doorway just after eleven o’clock. He was exhausted, having spent more than twenty-four hours in transit from Vienna. He was sure he smelled terrible, his teeth were coated with film, and the back of his hair was flat from leaning against airplane seats. He was thirsty and slightly sick to his stomach from the philly cheesesteak he’d grabbed at the airport.

“Welcome home.” Sam stood up as Aiden dragged his luggage inside, and took it from Aiden’s hand.
“I can get that—”
Sam had already wheeled the luggage into the bedroom. Aiden had been hoping for a hug, maybe. Something more than skycap service, at least. He rubbed his eyes, kicked off his shoes, and walked into the kitchen. He took a glass down from the shelf and filled it with water, then leaned against the counter and drank it all without pausing. He wanted to be happy to be home, but right now he was too braindead to be happy.
When he headed back into the main hallway, Sam was picking up his shoes and putting them away in the closet. “I’ll get those,” he began to say, but Sam had already closed the door. “You didn’t need to do that, you know.”
“I know.” Sam offered him a smile.
“Thanks.” Aiden bit back the temptation to tell Sam he didn’t need a maid. Instead, he made his way to the bathroom. “I don’t want to kiss you before I brush my teeth.” How the hell was
that
for an excuse to avoid snapping at Sam?
His toothbrush was waiting for him. He smiled. Something about that fact—that there was a toothbrush hanging on the stand, waiting for him to return—made him relax a bit. It
was
good to be home. He ran the water over the brush, watching it for a minute in a state of semiawareness as he struggled to keep his eyes open.
“How was the trip?” Sam’s voice from the bedroom brought Aiden back to himself.
“Good.” He took the toothpaste with renewed determination before brushing his teeth as quickly as he could. Maybe they’d have time for a quickie before bed—before he fell asleep, that was. He splashed some water on his face and ran a quick brush through his hair, then walked back into the bedroom, pulling his shirt over his head as he moved.
Sam was unpacking his suitcase.
Fucking hell.
“Sammy….” Aiden did his best not to sound like a total ass. “Why don’t we leave that for the morning? I can put it away myself, you know. I’m not that big a slob.” He wasn’t a slob at all, he reminded himself. In fact, the housekeeper at David’s London flat complained that he did
too
much of the cleaning himself and that there was nothing for her to do.
“It’s not a problem.” Sam tossed Aiden’s dirty socks and underwear into the rattan hamper. “Force of habit.”
Right. As in, Nick was a slob and you had gotten into the habit of picking up after him.
“Stop it, Sam.” He hadn’t meant for it to come out quite so forcefully.
Sam turned and looked at him, clearly shocked.
“I said I can do it in the morning.” Aiden hoped that this time he hadn’t sounded so pissed.
“Sure.” Sam averted his gaze. He looked uncomfortable. Hurt.
Great. The guy was trying to be nice, and now I’ve hurt his feelings.
Why did it always feel like he was walking on tiptoes when he got home from a trip?
“Listen, Sammy. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’m tired.”
“It’s okay.” Sam wore that expression Aiden hated—the one where he showed nothing. God knew what was going on behind those blue eyes of his when he looked like that.
I’m really a shit.
He walked over to Sam and pulled him close. He could sense the hesitation in Sam’s body in the way he didn’t move to return the embrace immediately. Even this close, Sam felt distant.
“I missed you.” Aiden meant the words. He really did.
Sam’s mechanical response cut Aiden to the quick. “Missed you too.”
“Come to bed?”
“Sure.”
They undressed in silence, Aiden slipping between the sheets, naked, and Sam following wearing only his boxers. The sheets felt like heaven, soft and welcoming. Aiden turned and put his hand on Sam’s chest, stroking the soft skin there. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just….” He hesitated, unsure of how to broach the subject. “Sometimes I sort of feel like I’m a guest here. That I should be doing more.”
“I’ll try not to hover.” Aiden thought he heard a hint of hurt in the other man’s voice. “I want to make it easier for you, that’s all. Traveling is so stressful.”
“I don’t mind it. It’s a little like what you told me about trials— they’re exhausting, but they’re part of your job.”
“I like taking care of you, Aiden.”
“And I like it when you do. But I also want to help out more around here. You know, helping you clean, doing the grocery shopping when I’m home. I want to help pay some of the bills.”
Sam waved a dismissive hand. “You don’t need to do that. I’ve got plenty of money, and Carol comes twice a month to help clean the place. All you need to do is relax when you’re home.”
Aiden was too tired to press the issue. He understood Sam’s need to make him feel like this was his safe harbor. But Aiden knew he needed to share some of the work around the apartment. Since he’d left Cam, he’d felt as though he was a nomad. He needed a place to call home, and that meant more than putting his feet up and having Sam wait on him. Not that he didn’t appreciate Sam’s attentions. He did.
Let it go. We can talk about it later and I can explain it to him. He’ll understand.
He kissed Sam tenderly on the lips. “I love you, Sammy.”
“I love you too,” Sam said. And for the first time that night, Aiden genuinely believed it.
I love you more than you know
, thought Aiden as he began to drift off. They fell asleep a few minutes later, Aiden spooned against Sam’s back.